I figured since this was the first time Micah got “paid” for his writing, it deserved some recognition beyond the world of Craigslist table-buyers. Hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed the ice cream that was purchased because of it.

lizzie.

So, let’s get straight to the point. This is probably the best table in the entire world.

For almost 7 years it has faithfully kept our breakfasts, lunches, and even dinners from falling on the floor. Thanks to it’s flatness and solidity, many words have been written cleanly on many pieces of paper. Books have rested comfortably on it’s welcoming top while the reader’s hands were busy brushing the reader’s teeth or holding a sleeping child. That’s right. This table has helped sleeping children. It’s not only tough and sturdy. It’s also tender and even adorable.

And speaking of tough and sturdy. What does one do when they have a ridiculously tall Brooklyn ceiling and the lightbulb burns out, even though it’s one of those fancy kinds that is actually a tube coiled around itself, and not a true bulb at all? And also, there is no ladder to be had. Well, I’ll tell you. They drag a freaking awesome table to the middle of the room, stick a decent — but not quite as freaking awesome — chair on top, and then stand on this tower of trustworthiness while swapping out fancy not-bulbs. That’s what. And does that table care that you just put another piece of furniture on top of it along with the weight of a full-grown adult male? It does not. Because it’s the best, most tough, and most sturdy table in the entire world, and that’s how it rolls.

But I digress. Unlike these unchanging, 4 solid pillars of wood, topped with a large flat piece of wood, the world is in a constant state of flux and unease. Families grow, apartment buildings are bought out and rent is raised to exorbitant amounts. And while the awesomest, tenderest, most adorable table in the entire world barely notices while it’s being dissembled, packed in a truck, moved to a new home and then reassembled, the rest of us do notice. We notice that there just isn’t a place in the new apartment for the table. And it’s too late to go back.

This brings us to the real question of the day. What is the value of a table? Sure, Ikea may value it at $99, but we think that’s just petty. The real value of something — dare I say someone? — that has been an integral part of the lives of a Brooklyn family, year after year — still as solid as the day it was born — is more than that. It’s worth lies not in dollars and cents, but in dreams and memories. Which is why the only thing we want in return for the best, most wooden, most slightly dented table in the entire world is a new memory to replace the many that it will take with it. This will preferably be a memory that involves 3 kid sized scoops of ice-cream (with sprinkles), one single scoop for the Mrs, and a double scoop for the Mr (to also be shared with Mrs). Plus tax.

Is that too much to ask? I think not. And neither does the most amazing, most reliable, most sturdy, most pragmatic, ice-cream loving table in the entire world.

ps. I should note that the true value (and I know because I went to the ice-cream parlor to figure it out) of the memory that we seek is $19.47. Craiglist apparently only like whole numbers, though, so it’s an even better deal.

pps. The ice cream parlor asked that I put in a shameless plug for them because they are new and have not yet reached the level of infamy that they seek. It’s called Brooklyn Bell’s The Local. We haven’t tried it yet, but it sounds quite tasty.